You never loved me.

Pity over rejection,

Why didn’t you tell me?

If I’d known the truth....

Why oh, why didn’t you tell me?

....I would’ve let go.

Much happened since then....

Why oh, why didn’t you tell me?

....clock can’t be turned back.

I never loved you

Pity over rejection

Why didn’t I tell you?

Why couldn't you tell me you liked me?

Why couldn't you tell me you cared?

Why couldn't you tell me you loved me?

Were you really just that scared?

Why didn't you tell me the truth?

Why did you always lie?

Why am I the only one hurting?

Why couldn't you just try?

I’m a writer

but i’m not good with words

it’s ironic isn’t it?

How I don’t know what to say

So I stutter over my words

like their tumbling blocks

trying to express something

that won’t leave my head

with my broken tongue

that I can’t mend.

I’m writer

Aren’t I ?

At least I try to believe that

though I think it’s a lie

because I can’t express how I truly feel

so my minds just filled to the brim

like a garbage truck

overloaded to the max

Yet I know I can’t take much of that

and I will soon spill

like a jumble up mess

tumbling down a hill.

See I want to tell you how I feel

but my mouth can’t say the words

to make you hear

So I just sit here

with the mess coming out my mouth

I know you don’t understand

what i’m talking about.

"why didn't you tell me,

she's my best friend?"

don't you see,

it could end

what ive spent so long

building with you

i thought it would be wrong

if i told you i felt the way i do.

because my feelings were so strong

how was i supposed to say i like her

after

i liked you for so long?

You always asked me how I was. I always thought it was just another of those silly adult questions with a set response... only as I've grown, I think you genuinely wanted to know. But I couldn't tell you. You wanted to know what was going on at home and followed any hints I gave with care and cautious questions. But I couldn't answer. It's not because my father was always around, although he usually was. It's not because you accidentally got me 'in trouble' a few times, because my offense wasn't actually something normally punishable. Its because I was protecting myself. If I told, I would be in worse danger. I would very possibly end up dead before anyone could help me. I also didn't tell you because I was protecting you. As young as I was, I still wanted to keep you from the knowledge of the nightmare I lived in. And, I still do. That's why I still can't tell you, Grandma.